


No One Can Hurt You Now

by dearprouvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, This might be a little sad, barricade - Freeform, im sorry, spanish class drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearprouvaire/pseuds/dearprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac lived his life from day to day and never worried much about the consequences of his actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Can Hurt You Now

**Author's Note:**

> Another little Spanish class Drabble because my teacher took my phone and I couldn't read any fics, so I had to come up with my own. :)
> 
> It might be a little sad, or so I have heard, I'm sorry. I blame it on my one of my friends for always calling me "Flower".

Courfeyrac shivered, he was cold. It wasn't the warm June air that send chills down his spine- it were the things he had seen. This fight, their fight, their rebellion had doomed them all to an early death. Maybe, quite possibly so, they had known that when they followed Enjolras into the battle. 

Courfeyrac had always been happy, a bundle of joy, the center of their group of friends. He lived his life from day to day and never worried too much about the consequences of his actions. 

Enjolras had told them, warned them, that they might not make it out alive. Back in those moments, in the small room they always occupied in the Musain, every chair taken by one of his friends, the thought had felt exciting. The thrill of fighting for what was right had quickly made them forget about the qualms they all silently had. 

But now, with the crimson blood of his fallen friends on his hands, Courfeyrac wished himself back into the candle-lit room, ready to talk his companions out of the foolishness that would cost them their precious lives. 

He had lost count, but he knew that most of his friends were dead, and the screams he heard echoing from outside the building let him know that they soon would be defeated. 

Finally feeling able to bear the sight, he turned to the corner of the room. He didn't realize it, but a sob broke from his lips. 

"No." he mumbled, letting himself fall onto his knees. "No, no, no, no!" The fabric under his fingers felt slick, with blood, and Courfeyrac could feel hot tears cascading down his cheeks and spilling onto his blood smudged fingers. He wanted it all to be over, for the first time in his life he wanted to be dead. 

His eyes could stand the sight of the limb figure in front of him no more, so he let his gaze drop to the floor. It came to rest on the crumpled petals of a little, white flower. His fingers clasped around it and he brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss onto the soft surface. 

"Sleep tight my little flower." he whispered before tucking it behind Jehan's ear, the place where it belonged. 

Hearing fast steps approaching him, he took one last look at the boy on the floor before turning around. 

"Vive la France!" he exclaimed, his fist raised high, before the report sounded and he joined his amis.


End file.
